


Uncomfortable in an Altogether Different Way

by zillah975



Category: The Losers
Genre: Bondage, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Suspension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-06
Updated: 2010-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-09 23:03:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zillah975/pseuds/zillah975
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An op goes wrong, and Jensen winds up tied to a steam pipe in a basement room. And sure, Clay comes for him, but sometimes Jensen's mouth kind of runs away with him, and sometimes that leads to a little more hanging around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncomfortable in an Altogether Different Way

**Author's Note:**

> For the "suspension" square on my [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kink_bingo**](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) card.
> 
> Please see end notes for content notes/warnings.

By the time Clay got to him, Jensen had been there for a couple of hours and was actually starting to get a little worried.

He still wasn't sure quite how it had happened. It was a simple job, or it should have been -- just get in, grab the files, and get out, slick as ice, something Jensen could do in his sleep, and okay, so maybe he hadn't been paying entirely close attention when Clay was telling him about the specifics of this gig, but was it his fault that his brain went fuzzy when confronted with the Colonel's shirt unbuttoned _just_ to there, and the Florida heat making one little drop of sweat track slowly from his collarbone down to the dark hair that peeked from beneath his perfect white shirt? And the way he smelled, all musky and hot, made Jensen want to just...just push him over and start biting his way down. So no, Jensen didn't think he could be blamed for that at all. Clay should know better by now.

And it was such a simple job, how could it go wrong?

So of course, it had.

He'd missed the rendezvous because the thugs who'd taken him had been busy securing him to a pipe in the middle of some kind of machine maintenance room in the basement, arms stretched high over his head, though thankfully not high enough that his wrists had to take all his weight.

For over an hour he'd just hung there, alternating between standing on his toes and letting his arms do the work, but for the last thirty minutes he'd been listening to the thugs in question trying to survive Clay's fury. He would've said _I told you so_ except there was tape across his mouth, so talking would really have just been a lot of incoherent _mmmph_ing behind the gag. And of course they were in some other part of the building altogether having a shoot-out with Clay -- at least he sure hoped it was Clay -- so they probably wouldn't have heard him even if he'd been yelling.

But he'd warned them! They couldn't say he hadn't tried. Hell, that was why they'd gagged him in the first place, they got tired of hearing what a mess of shit they were in once his boss noticed him missing. It didn't matter that the rest of the team was already in Bogota, Clay wasn't the kind of guy to wait around for them to come back before he went to retrieve his hacker.

When he finally came striding into the room where Jensen hung, his goddamned suit was barely rumpled, and the look on his face was half relief and half pissed off. And his shirt was still unbuttoned _just_ to there.

Fuck, but Jensen was glad to see him.

"Goddamn it, Jensen," Clay growled, jog-trotting over to him. "I told you to be careful, I _told_ you not to fuck around with these assholes, they're smarter than you think!"

He ripped the tape off and Jensen gasped in a breath. "Hey, thanks, Colonel," he said, and worked his jaw for a second. Crap, that tape stung. "And I was careful, I was! Just, uh, I guess...maybe not careful enough."

Clay gave him a disgusted look. "You think?"

"I'll uh...." Jensen cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I'll try to be more careful next time, okay?"

Clay snorted and shook his head, then reached for the ropes binding Jensen's wrists.

And then, well, maybe it was because of how good it felt to know he wasn't going to die of dehydration all forgotten there tied to a steam pipe, or maybe because he was kind of embarrassed about fucking up the op, or maybe it was just the way his brain went fuzzy at the smell of the man, especially when Jensen was coincidentally helpless at the time, but it just slipped out. "Anyway, it sure took you long enough, sir. Been waiting here for hours -- what, you couldn't find a taxi?"

Clay paused, and then stepped back, and looked at him.

Oops. Jensen gave a friendly little chuckle to show he was teasing. "Kidding," he said. "Hey, I was, you know. Uh. Just."

It was a look that made Jensen profoundly uncomfortable, like Clay was considering whether to just leave him there in spite of the friendly chuckle. And then that sly smile narrowed his eyes, the smile you only ever saw if you knew what you were looking for because it never reached his mouth, but you really wanted to see it coming because it was usually followed shortly by one of Clay's more interesting orders. It made him uncomfortable in an altogether different and somewhat more embarrassing way.

"Uh, sir?" Jensen said. He looked up at the pipe. "You uh, you think you could get me down from here?"

"Oh, I don't know," Clay drawled, "you seem to be doing okay. Not too beat up to mouth off at me, are you?"

Jensen tried a laugh, and it came out a little anxious. "Hey, you know me, sir, I'm -- always kidding around, but seriously, I'm really, really glad to see you." He shifted on the balls of his feet. "I mean, it's not the _most_ uncomfortable I've ever been. That'd have to be that time outside Tucson, with the guy who had those killer Dobermans, you remember that?"

"Mm. Vaguely." Clay reached over and started unbuttoning Jensen's shirt.

"Yeah. Um." Jensen swallowed, watching. Those hands were a fucking aphrodisiac all by themselves, it was totally not fair. "And he had that--"

Clay's fingers brushed the stretched-tight skin of Jensen's belly and Jensen's voice cracked. Clay did it again, running his finger down Jensen's trouble line, and Jensen squirmed, but there really wasn't much he could do like this. Which was a whole new kind of interesting. "He had that what?" Clay asked.

"He, uh...." Jensen swallowed again and wet his lips. "He had that collar thing, with the electric shocks? That was way worse than this. Or when Aisha walked in on us that time, whooo." Jensen shook his head. "I sure wish you'd told me she already knew! But in all seriousness, Colonel, it's still pretty uncomfortable, and uh...do you want to, you know...untie me now? Please?"

Clay shifted a little closer and cupped Jensen's crotch, and Jensen sucked in a breath, his dick twitching under Clay's palm. "No, I don't think I do," Clay said, and ran his thumb down the length of Jensen's hard-on, then popped open the top button of his jeans and worked the zipper down. "Not sure you really want me to, either."

He slid his hand in and Jensen made a choked gasp.

And okay, there was something a little disturbing about the fact that Clay could go from killing a dozen armed drug dealers one minute to putting his hand down Jensen's pants the next, while the bodies were still cooling upstairs and Jensen was tied to a steam pipe in the fucking basement and totally unable to do anything about this turn of events except maybe wrap his legs around Clay if it came to that and if Clay promised not to take too long, because seriously, these ropes were not made for long-term hanging around, but what was even more disturbing was that in spite of all that, Jensen was hard as a goddamned spike and literally _whining_ at touch of Clay's hand on his cock.

Clay was looking at him with that same smile, the one that bypassed Clay's mouth and went straight to Jensen's dick. "How about I make you come in my hand," Clay murmured, "then fuck you 'til you can't walk straight, and _then_ I let you down? We'll call it payback for that stunt you pulled in São Paolo."

Oh, crap.

"But hey, you totally enjoyed that," Jensen said, and gasped when Clay squeezed. "You, uh...you did, didn't you?"

"If I hadn't, we wouldn't be standing here right now," Clay said, and Jensen felt a surge of relief. It wasn't often you got the drop on Franklin Clay, he could hardly be blamed for taking advantage of it. And Clay had certainly seemed enthusiastic at the time, even if the gag had kind of prevented him from being very articulate about it. He was pretty sure the Colonel would have found a way to let him know if he'd wanted him to stop.

"I'm glad to hear it, sir," Jensen said. "Because, you know, I would never want to do anything to actually piss you off. I really value the solid working relationship we have, and--nngh_fuck! Sir!_"

"Oh," Clay said, "did that hurt? I'm sorry, I'll try to be more careful next time, okay?"

Jensen was panting, and Clay let go of his balls so he could push Jensen's boxers out of the way. Jensen's prick was stiff and ready, _achingly_ ready, a tiny bead of fluid at the tip, and the cool air on his most vulnerable possession sent a shiver over his skin. He pulled against the ropes but all that did was make his dick bounce a little.

Clay chuckled. "Yeah, I think I like you like this. Just...hanging around, waiting for me." He reached for him again, and Jensen whimpered.

Yeah, it was pretty disturbing.

But somehow, Jensen didn't mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> **Content Notes/Warnings:** Consensual bondage and sex between a superior officer and a subordinate; reference to potentially dodgy consent play; off-screen violence and mayhem.


End file.
